


First Impressions

by Niar_muse1



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, First Impressions, Fluff, One Shot, Warden's POV, ZevWarden Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niar_muse1/pseuds/Niar_muse1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day one of Zev/Warden appreciation week!<br/>The first time Andra met Zevran, she was intrigued and entranced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

She was entranced from the moment they first met.  
Having grown up in the circle, Andra never met anyone quite like the elf she stood over now. An elf that wasn't a Mage or a Templar, but an assassin that had tried to kill her. 

He had moved so gracefully, like light rippling off calm water, there and barely there at the same time. His eyes showed so much expression, emotions that Andra had learned to control, to hide away.  
The event Mage locked eyes with him, silver blue on brown. He held an air of playful apathy, but his eyes were filled of something she couldn't quite describe. It almost seemed that he would be fine with whatever fate awaited him.  
She glanced over him, he wasn't flashy, black leathers with a tattered black cape, honey blond hair striking through the dark. It looked as if he had traveled the world, or at least, much much further than Andra could have ever gone. 

He said his name was Zevran, and he was unlike anything Andra had ever seen, she wanted to know more about him. 

So of course she brought him along, against Alistair's judgement, purely for observational purposes… though she may have told Alistair he was their best bet against Loghain.  
Alistair had insisted they kept him bound at night and Andra hesitantly agreed.

They quickly learned after the first night that it was a waste of rope. 

Over the next few weeks, Alistair kept an almost overbearing eye on Zevran, almost enough that Andra was starting to feel like she was back at the tower… and not in a good way either. The amount of times her heart skipped a beat whenever Alistair's armor shifted was one too many.

"He hasn't done anything in weeks, Alistair." She protested one night when the two of them were out of earshot, "You're like a Templar with a Mage."  
He backed off after that, eventually learning to trust the assassin. 

Andra liked talking to Zevran, he was easy to talk to, always willing to tell her of his exploits, usually in great detail.  
His stories were unlike anything she had read or heard of before. And for the first time in years, Zevran managed to get a genuine smile out of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo yeah, this is a thing.  
> This fic is also on tumblr!


End file.
